


Revelation

by luckie_dee



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6203797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee/pseuds/luckie_dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren reveals a secret to Chris. Struggling actors/friends with benefits!Crisscolfer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Crossdressing kink (in this case, men wearing women's lingerie for sexual pleasure), handjobs, blowjobs, rimming, hints of comeplay, the vaguest allusion to dirty talk you've ever seen. Unbetaed.
> 
>  **Author's Note:** For [Lindsey](http://controlofwhatido.tumblr.com/), who might need something to read today, and who's been mentioning for a while that she wants more crossdressing kink. ♥

Darren's been twitchy all day. He tends to be twitchy on a normal day, but today, it seems excessive.

He works with Chris at the bookstore, in the music area. Chris had envisioned maybe working for a hole-in-the-wall place with _atmosphere_ , but the chain stores have better pay and better benefits, so here he is. He'd started almost four months ago, and Darren was one of the first people he met. They'd bonded quickly over shared interests and commiseration over struggling to get acting work, and they'd hooked up for the first time after three weeks.

It's gone on like that ever since – friends with benefits, not a situation Chris ever expected to find himself in, but here he is.

He gets stuck helping a customer who's trying to track down a book that Chris isn't sure even exists, so he misses the start of his break by a good ten minutes. When he finally heads for the break room, Darren follows him and sidles right up alongside as Chris waits for the microwave.

“Chris, I – did a thing,” Darren says, his voice pitched a little high and excited. Between that and all the fidgeting, Chris isn't sure what to think, and he's starting to feel a creeping edge of worry.

“Is it something you're going to get arrested for?” he finally asks. Tries to tack on a joke: “If you're looking for advance bail money, try someone who isn't currently setting the world record for most part time jobs in one year.”

Darren rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. I _got_ something.”

“Is it communicable?” Chris asks immediately.

“What?”

“It's sexually transmitted, isn't it?”

“ _What_? No! Fuck, Chris, just –” he inches closer to Chris and inches down one side of the waistband of his jeans. “This.”

“ _Darren_ ,” Chris hisses, “not – ” He snaps his mouth shut when he looks down and his eyes catch on a frill of lacy fabric.

It simply doesn't compute at first, but when the pieces all click into place, Chris feels his stomach drop, then flip, while his cheeks burn. “Who put you up to that?” he asks, his voice clipped when he finds it.

Darren resettles his waistband against his hip. “Um, no one? Me?”

Chris's eyebrows form a disbelieving arc. “So this isn't where you tell me that you met some girl at the bar last night, and she was _so hot_ , and now she's got you wearing her panties this morning and it's fucking awesome?”

There's a tinge of wryness in Darren's tone when he retorts, but it melts back into excited agitation as he goes on. “Although that _does_ sound like something I would say – no. These are, uh – they're mine.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

Chris stares at him, honest confusion starting to crack through his carefully held defenses. “I – ”

“Actually,” Darren interrupts, dropping his voice, “it sounds like something I would have said two months ago. You know I haven't slept with anyone but you in at least that long. I told you,” he adds in response to Chris's skeptical expression.

Chris nods slowly, trying to formulate any sort of logical response. This was definitely not what he'd expected to have happen when he'd put his Easy Mac in to nuke. “So, why are you – ”

He's cut off again, this time by a coworker, who walks in and gives both of them a tired-sounding _hey guys_. Darren startles back at the greeting, and Chris belatedly takes his macaroni out of the microwave. “So,” Darren says, rocking up on his toes. “Do you want to maybe grab a bite after work? I can tell you about it then.”

“Sure,” Chris replies, because if nothing else, he's curious now. “I'll meet you at your car?” Chris takes public transportation, but Darren's parents have a lot of money, and therefore, Darren has a car.

Darren nods, bounces on the balls of his feet, and darts back out of the break room as quickly as he came. Chris stares down at his noodles, his stomach churning.

*

When they get to Darren's car later, it's dark. Darren passes the keys to Chris, like he does sometimes. They pick up fast food from a drive through window and park in a distant corner of a shopping center lot. It's a little high school, maybe, but it's not unusual – they both have roommates they'd rather avoid and neither of them has enough money on a regular basis to hang out anywhere nice. The bag of food rests on Darren's knees, but they don't make a move for it. It just sits there.

The silence is almost unbearable, but Chris has no idea how to break it. Luckily, Darren pipes up first. “Sorry I just sprang that on you, man.”

“Darren,” Chris says. He starts and stops a few sentences before asking, simply, “why did you?”

He shrugs. “I wanted to.”

As far as explanations go, it's not much. “You wanted to,” Chris repeats flatly.

“I did.”

Chris clears his throat. “So – you're still wearing them?”

Darren shifts his hips against the seat, and heat creeps into Chris's face. “Yup,” Darren confirms.

And then, Chris blurts out the thing he's been ruminating on all afternoon: “Darren, I'm – gay. Really gay. I know there's a lot of flexibility when it comes to sexuality – ” Darren snorts “ – and yes, yes, I know, you are a prime example of just how flexible sexuality can be. But for me... things that are feminine don't... don't really do much, so I – ”

“Chris, Chris,” Darren speaks over his rambling, not unkindly. He moves the bag of food to the floor at his feet, and his hands go to the button of his pants. “I'm pretty confident that these – ” he draws down his zipper “ – do _not_ make me look feminine.” He opens the vee of his fly wide.

The light is low, but Chris can clearly see Darren's dick, chubby but not hard, trapped under sheer creamy fabric with a ribbon at the waistline. Darren's right: it's not feminine, not exactly, but the contradiction of cock and panties is obscene. Chris swallows against a dry throat and says, “Oh.”

“Kind of hot, right?” Darren asks. He actually sounds a bit nervous, but – something else too. He's visibly harder than he had been when he'd opened his pants, and Chris glances up to see that Darren's chest is rising and falling rapidly. He's getting really worked up really fast, just from looking at his own erection under lingerie. Or from showing it to Chris. Or both. He looks over at Chris suddenly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, without even being sure that he means to. But he can't ignore the fact that his own cock is already more than interested, or the way his belly is burning. He's not sure if it's because of what Darren's showing him or because Darren's so turned on, but he's willing to see where it all goes. The air in the car is stifling.

Darren hums and reaches down to adjust his erection, letting out a small groan as he does. Chris, still feeling like he's not in full control of his own body, finds himself extending a hand, sliding his fingers and then pressing his palm over Darren's thick cock. It doesn't so much twitch under his touch as it does jump, and Chris feels fresh wetness at the tip, which is now poking past the waistline of the panties in a way that looks uncomfortable. Darren whines.

“You really like this,” Chris observes, but it's detached, distant. He rubs Darren's dick as best he can, hampered by the angle and by Darren's pants.

“Oh _fuck_ yes,” Darren wheezes out. “Fuck. Chris. Feeling your hand... with them on, fuck.” He's bucking his hips up, and Chris thinks he's just thrusting into the pressure of the awkward handjob, but then he realizes that Darren is actually lifting his ass off the seat to work his jeans down. It starts to drag the panties down on one side, and Chris instinctively grabs them to hold them in place. Darren shoves the pants to his knees, yanks his shirt up his stomach, and spreads his legs as much as he can.

It's Chris's first full look at what Darren is wearing. The underwear are simpler than he thought they might be: an indistinguishable light color that stands out in contrast against Darren's warm, tanned skin and dark hair. The waistband has a ruffle, a ribbon, and a small bow. There's something almost dainty about the garment, but that effect is simultaneously ruined by the way Darren's dick – definitely full and hard now – is visible though the opaque fabric and the flushed head of it is sticking out from the top.

Chris can't help himself: “Isn't that uncomfortable?” he asks.

“Don't care,” Darren says, practically scoffs. He grabs Chris's hand and presses it back to his groin. “Finish me off. Fuck. Please.”

Chris rubs over Darren's erection again, his skin sliding across the sleek material. “What do you want?”

“Just keep going.” Darren's head is tossed against the seatback, eyes closed, mouth open. “Won't take much.”

So Chris goes back to work, rocking his hand over Darren's dick, stoking it with his fingers, reaching down to cup and tease Darren's balls. Darren squirms and jerks his hips and curses, and they set up a quick rhythm together. Not long after, Darren seizes up, grabs the door, and comes, hard, accompanied by a strange muffled _crunch_ , his release spurting up his stomach and then dripping back down toward the panties.

Darren's body goes limp against the seat and he chuckles a little, loose, maybe relieved. “Holy shit, Chris. Thank you. That was perfect.”

Chris isn't sure that he would use the word _perfect_ to describe a quick handjob in a parking lot surrounded by air permeated with the scent of greasy fast food, but he doesn't argue. He just keeps looking at Darren, shocked, at his come-streaked belly and softening cock behind damp, rumpled panties. “No problem,” he says faintly.

“Well, don't say that until you know the whole truth,” Darren replies, heaving himself forward.

Something worried and anxious blooms in Chris's chest. “What do you mean?”

Darren retrieves the food from the floor of the car. “I think I stomped on your burger,” he explains, and Chris remembers the unexplained noise when he came. Darren peers into the bag as he fishes out a bundle of napkins and adds, “Yeah, it looks pretty dented.” He starts wiping his stomach.

“As long as it's still edible,” Chris says.

“It should be.” Darren ponders the wadded-up napkins for a moment, and finally, tosses them onto the floor. He refastens his pants, then reaches around to put the bag on the backseat. When he twists toward the front again, he stays right in Chris's space. “But not yet.”

There's a certain glint in his eye. “No?” Chris asks.

“Nope.” Darren pauses to kiss him, reaching down to cup his cock at the same time. It's still hard and surges quickly back to full attention. “First, I owe you one hell of a BJ.”

It's a weird night, and Chris isn't going to argue with that.

*

They don't talk much more about it after that. Or at all, really. True to his word, Darren blows Chris to within an inch of his life. They eat their lukewarm, mangled food, while Darren quickly switches to safer topics of conversation. Chris drives Darren home, and when he hands Darren's keys back, Darren gives him a grateful kiss and a meaningful look before he drives away.

Chris lies awake in his bed for a long time.

*

For the next few days, their shifts don't overlap. There are a few texts about the usual things: movies or music or food, whatever Darren's excited about. Chris doesn't initiate many of them, and to him, something still feels _off_. Unfinished. Undiscussed. But definitely there, looming, in the corner of every room.

When he does see Darren again, it's four days later and Darren waves to him from across the store with a cheerful smile, like nothing is amiss. Chris returns it, though more grimly.

It's a busy day, and they don't get a chance to talk until after closing. Darren catches up with Chris as he's walking toward the bus stop and greets him with a cautious _hey_.

“Hi,” Chris replies, hoping that maybe his awkwardness will pass for just being aloof.

It becomes rapidly apparent that it doesn't matter: Darren is a man on a mission. He barrels on: “I want to take you out for dinner.”

Chris blinks. It's not what he's been expecting, but he's almost never opposed to free food. “Now?”

“No,” Darren says immediately. “I mean, sure, if you want. But sometime.”

“Now's fine,” Chris responds with a shrug. “Where haven't we been in a while? Chipotle? Panda Express?”

“No.” Darren repeats the word even more firmly, and Chris furrows his brow. “I want to go somewhere nice where we can sit down.”

“They don't let you sit at Chipotle anymore?”

Darren rolls his eyes, but it looks fond. “I heard they took out the tables to move in some guacamole troughs.”

“All the more reason to go there,” Chris quips as they reach the bus stop. There's one other person there, but she's engrossed in her phone and wearing earbuds.

Turning to face him, Darren smiles, but it's not an easy expression like he usually wears. “Seriously though, I think we need to talk, don't you?”

Chris knows that much is true. “What did you have in mind?”

*

They end up getting Italian food a few days later. The restaurant is busy enough that there's a buzz of conversation, which is a relief for Chris. It means that he'll be comfortable talking in quiet enough voices that they won't be overheard. And they're definitely going to talk. As soon as the waiter leaves with their drink orders, Darren folds his hands on the table and says, “I feel like I owe you an explanation for last week.”

“I feel like I would appreciate that,” Chris replies.

Darren nods, and starts in the middle of the story, like he often does. “It wasn't even my plan to show them to you. I just – I had just ordered them, and I was only wearing them for the first time, and they were turning me the fuck on all day. Which, granted, _was_ part of the plan. So I'm walking around the stupid store all day with half a boner, knowing they were there, and I – I don't know. Wanted to share it with you.”

Chris blinks at him. “Your half a boner?”

It makes Darren snort. “No, asshole. The... I don't know. The experience.”

“I sincerely hope that's not what you're calling your dick now,” Chris deadpans, and Darren laughs again as the waiter reappears, glasses in hand.

When they're alone again, Chris takes the opportunity to try and back Darren up a little. “Why did you buy them? I mean – why was that something you wanted to try?”

Darren's fiddling with his straw wrapper, and he talks more to it than to Chris, his voice low. “Did you know there are places that make that stuff? Lingerie for men, that is. They, like, specialize in it. It's built to fit better, because the kind for women doesn't have room for your junk. Anyway, I was looking for porn one day, and I just stumbled across it and... I liked it.”

Chris is somehow completely unsurprised that the entire thing had started with a porn hunt. He nods, and then asks, the words spilling out in an ugly, unplanned stream, “What do you like about it? I mean... do you want to _be_... which is fine. But I don't know if it... changes things? Between us.”

In that moment, Chris feels terribly young and out of his depth. He wants to be sensitive to whatever Darren might be going through, but his own upbringing has left him woefully unprepared for the topic. He's not even sure he knows the right words to use, and he feels foolish as he stumbles over trying not to use the wrong ones.

Darren, thankfully, doesn't react like Chris is a bumbling idiot. He smiles, and his eyes are kind as he shakes his head. “No, I think it's just a... a sex thing, basically. I think it looks sexy. I feel really fucking sexy with them on.”

Chris feels his stomach give a nervous dip. “Do you want me to wear them?”

“No.” Darren's answer is easy and honest. “Unless you want to.”

“I don't,” Chris says quickly.

Darren doesn't look upset. “I figured. I remember how conflicted you were about auditioning for that part.”

“And I withdrew from consideration.”

“I remember.” They lapse into a moment of silence, and then Darren suddenly pins Chris with a look, his eyes and his expression wide open as he asks, his voice the smallest it's been yet, “Do you think it's weird? That I'm into it?”

The waiter chooses that moment to deliver their entrees.

Darren practically rears back from the table in surprise. He stays tense and jumpy while the waiter sprinkles grated cheese on both their plates, and he's way too cheerful when he tells the waiter that no, he doesn't need anything else right now.

Chris uses the break in the conversation to collect himself, and as soon as the waiter leaves, he says, firmly, “It's not weird. You said yourself there are companies that make it. That means there's enough of a demand to make it worthwhile.”

“But,” Darren says, his eyes pleading, “do _you_ think I'm weird?”

Chris pauses. “Darren, I think you're weird – ” Darren's face falls a little, but Chris pushes on “ – I think I'm weird. Everyone is. I don't think this make you any weirder than anyone else. You just took me by surprise.”

Darren looks both mollified and sheepish. “I am sorry about that.”

“It's okay,” Chris replies. He even manages to shoot Darren a smirk. “I think it turned out all right in the end.”

They eat quietly for bites before Darren speaks again. “Thank you for that. This has been a _thing_ for me for over a year, and you're the first person I've told or, uh – done anything about it with.”

Chris glances up in surprise. “I thought you said you just bought them.”

“I did,” Darren confirms. “But it was a guilty fucking pleasure for a long time until I went that far with it. I didn't feel comfortable sharing it with anyone else.”

“But you did with me?”

Darren sets down his fork and stretches an arm across the table. Chris is so surprised that he doesn't realize at first what it means, but when he does, he hesitantly slides his hand into Darren's. “Remember when I told you I didn't want to get into a relationship right now?” He waits for Chris's nod. “Well, it turns out that might have been a bunch of bullshit. I think I was just afraid I was going to end up really liking you. And I was right. I really like you.”

“You have an interesting way of showing it,” Chris jokes, and Darren just tilts his head and looks back wryly. Chris sobers and says awkwardly, “You're not so bad yourself.”

Apparently, it's enough, because Darren squeezes his hand, then releases it and grabs his fork to scoop up another mouthful of pasta.

Chris quells the butterflies in his stomach that start to dance at the very thought of saying what he's about to, and then he says it. “We can do it again, if you want.”

Darren looks up again, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Really.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and then Darren says, “I'll have the apartment to myself the weekend after next.”

*

Darren answers the door that day wearing a rumpled t-shirt and jeans. It looks so normal that Chris almost forgets what he's got on under them, or why he's there in the first place. He doesn't though: the anticipation and – Chris can't deny it – the excitement have been building between them for days. He's not being taken by surprise this time. He's planned and prepared, and he wants to see what he can do to Darren. It feels like a special occasion, but Chris hadn't dressed up either.

“Hey,” Darren greets him, stepping aside to motion Chris into the apartment.

“Hey,” Chris echoes, stepping in.

Darren shuts the door and they look at each other. There's very little pretense – even though they've hung out even more than usual since Darren's admission of _like_ and have even been on two more of what can only be described as dates, Chris isn't here for hanging out or for a date. He's here for a fuck, and it's looming over everything. Still, Chris offers, “Do you want to get pizza or something first? Watch a movie?” Maybe it'll normalize things.

“Honestly?” Darren says. “No.” It makes them both laugh, which relieves some of the tension, and Darren tacks on, “maybe after?”

Chris nods as Darren slides up to him, and they finally kiss hello. It's lush and wet from the start, and it goes on long past a customary greeting. They're both breathing heavily by the time Darren leans away to say, “I've just been waiting for this, Chris, you have no fucking idea. You're still okay with it?”

“I am,” Chris assures him, ignoring the nerves like curling tendrils in his stomach. They don't mean he's not okay with it, anyway; he just wants it to be good. For both of them.

“Okay.” Darren kisses him one last time and then releases Chris from his arms to take his hand. He tugs Chris in the direction of his room. “You wait out here for just a second, all right? I have to put them on.”

Chris gestures to his body. “You're not – ?”

“In case you changed your mind,” Darren explains, and disappears into his bedroom.

Oddly, Chris is touched by the gesture, but it is uncomfortable to be left fidgeting in the hallway. He stares at the wall and takes deep breaths, but it's all undone the second Darren calls, “Okay! Come in!”

Chris places his hand on the doorknob. Turns it, pushes. Freezes when he sees Darren.

Darren is leaning against the bed, and he's definitely wearing lingerie now, because it's all he's wearing. The panties are lacy again, but black this time, with a thicker ruffled band that runs high around his narrow waist, exposing his hips. Material dips down from it to cover Darren's cock, which is already threatening to overflow the garment.

“Still okay?” Darren asks. He's flushed, his breathing just as labored as it had been when they'd parted at the door.

Chris nods and swallows. He is, even though his voice is pitching high when he speaks. “Those are a little, uh... sluttier than last time, aren't they?”

“You think so?” Darren pushes away from the bed and turns around to present his ass, and the way the panties split the two high globes of it with a thin strip of fabric.

Chris's eyebrows shoot up. “Um...” he says eloquently.

Darren rotates back to the face him and nods at the way that Chris is tenting his pants. “You like it,” he observes. A hint of anxiety bleeds into his tone. “You do, right?”

As turned on as he is, Chris still isn't sure that _like_ is the right word. He settles on, “You look amazing,” which is true. What Darren's wearing makes his waist look trimmer than ever and accentuates his ass beautifully. He looks sleek and sexy and he's practically glowing with how turned on he is.

“Yeah?” Darren says, beaming.

“Yeah,” Chris confirms. He strips off his own t-shirt and crosses the room.

They grab each other as soon as they're close enough, kissing hungrily, and Chris runs his hands all over Darren's naked back. It's something he's used to, but when he slides one down and touches the waistband of the panties, it's different. The fabric is softer than he'd expected it to be. He runs his fingers over and then underneath the strip of lace encircling Darren's waist and toys briefly with the thong disappearing between his asscheeks. Darren whines and melts against him at first, then recovers enough to start fumbling at Chris's fly. He opens it and slides a hand inside, huffing into Chris's mouth as he palms his cock.

Chris lets go of Darren to start shimmying his pants down, and Darren backs away completely to sit on the mattress. He leans back on his hands and starts scooting up the bed, until he's laid out perfectly on it. His erection is flopping out against his leg now, which is both ridiculous and erotic. He reaches down to tuck it back inside the panties.

Laughing a bit at that because he can't help it, Chris joins him. He pushes Darren down and kisses him again, soundly, then starts working down Darren's body. He doesn't hurry. He spends time teasing Darren's nipples, which are sensitive, and his belly, because Chris likes it. When he finally reaches the panties, he licks and nips from one side of the waistband to the other, dipping his tongue in where Darren's hips make a groove under the fabric. Darren curses and begs and then Chris gets to his cock.

This is where Chris would normally peel whatever underwear Darren is wearing away, if they weren't already gone. But he knows that's not the point this time, and he nuzzles down over the fabric before pressing his tongue to it and dragging up.

“ _Fuck_!” Darren grunts.

He's close enough already, Chris can tell, but he still doesn't speed up. He mouths and sucks at Darren's dick through the panties, which are rapidly growing damp with Chris's own saliva and Darren's precome. Chris uses his tongue to rub the fabric into Darren's erection in circles, dips under along the edges of it to get at Darren's bare skin, and Darren groans like he's dying.

When Darren's entire body is spiraled tight and shaking, Chris lifts his head and says, “Turn over.”

“No, Chris,” Darren whines. “Fuck, please. I can get there like this. Please.”

“I know you can; that's not the point.” Chris gives Darren's hip a gentle slap. “Turn over.”

Darren does, and Chris shoves his hips up and his ass cheeks apart. He dives in, licking Darren's hole over the thong, rolling it aside to press his tongue directly into Darren's skin but it's still _there_. Chris pulls back to say, harshly, “Come with them on,” before redoubling his efforts. It doesn't take long at all, and Darren comes, shaking, with a shout. Chris releases his body and pets over his ass and thighs while Darren circles his hips down into the mattress, riding out the aftershocks.

For his part, Chris is still throbbing hard and almost vibrating with the need to come, but he's not sure if Darren's too ruined at the moment to do anything about it. He kneels up behind Darren and shoves his own briefs down his hips, wishing he had just kicked them off earlier. Taking himself in hand, Chris jerks roughly, chasing himself rapidly toward orgasm with no finesse. It catches him easily after what feels like seconds, and he paints his release over Darren's back and his thong.

“Jesus fuck,” Darren mutters, still facedown in a pillow, when he feels it. “Chris, you are fucking amazing.”

Chris heaves his body to one side of the bed, stretching out beside Darren and trying to recover his breath. “Glad we're in agreement,” he wheezes.

Darren tilts his head in Chris's direction and cracks his eyes, grinning. “Thank you. I know this isn't necessarily your thing.”

Chris shrugs one shoulder. “I didn't _not_ like it. I like how much you do.”

Wincing, Darren rolls to one side and starts working the soaked, ruined scrap of fabric off. “We should do this more often,” he comments, tossing the panties off the side of the bed.

“Have me fuck you while you're wearing panties?” Chris asks, feeling loose and lazy and letting Darren gather him in.

Darren pauses. “Fucking yes. Definitely that. But I meant go on dates, share stuff with each other, do kinky shit.” He kisses Chris's neck. “Be boyfriends.”

Chris lets out a snort. “Are you serious right now?”

“Completely.”

“Let's talk about it when we're not come dumb, okay?”

Darren snuggles in closer and whispers directly into Chris's ear. “We'll talk about it later. Will you say yes?”

It does something strange to Chris's heart, what Darren's offering and his close, quiet voice. He takes a careful breath before answering. “Yes.”

“Good,” Darren says, and kisses down to Chris's shoulder.

“But first,” Chris adds, “let's order that pizza, okay? I'm starving.”

Darren laughs into his skin. “Sounds like a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Link to tumblr post [here](http://luckiedee.tumblr.com/post/140741710647/revelation-crisscolfer-fic).


End file.
